


In which Jehan gives Bahorel a black eye

by angelwitheaglewings (orphan_account)



Series: Let the Poets Cry Themselves to Sleep [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 17:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/angelwitheaglewings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Jehan gives Bahorel a black eye

Jehan was not in a good mood. He had been up until five in the morning trying to finish a poem for his creative writing class and studying for an exam. He had torn roughly 25 pages out of his notebook, all of which had ended up crumpled at the bottom of his garbage bin. He only slept for three hours before rushing off to campus. Following his exam, he headed to the Musain, where Les Amis were having a meeting. 

Jehan was sorting through some pamphlets for Enjolras, who was busy discussing logistics of an upcoming protest with Combeferre and Courfeyrac. He had taken some time to tie his hair back in a neat braid that he decorated with some flowers he picked on his way to the cafe. That had been the only thing to comfort him during the day, and it slightly eased the stress he felt as responsibilities closed in around him. 

He felt someone pluck a flower from his hair and he whipped around, eyes narrowed, to find Bahorel standing behind him, twirling a daisy between his fingers. Bahorel was clearly drunk. He and Grantaire had gone barhopping earlier. ("Already? Don't they have anything better to do?" Jehan thought), and his smirk was infuriating.

"Good evenin', Prouvaire," he said, grinning. Jehan glared at him.

"Give it back, Bahorel," his voice, normally soft, was filled with fury. Bahorel didn't pick up on the anger in Jehan's voice. As Jehan made a grab at the flower, Bahorel lifted his arm out of reach. Jehan's face flushed red, and his eyes narrowed even more. Bahorel laughed.

Jehan didn't really intend for it to happen, but suddenly his fist made contact with Bahorel's cheekbone. Bahorel stumbled backwards a few steps, the flower falling to the ground as he clutched his face, his eyes wide with surprise. 

"Shit, Prouvaire," he said with something like awe in his voice, "I didn't know you could hit like that." Jehan knelt down to retrieve the flower, weaving it back into his hair. A small smile formed on his face, and he suddenly felt as though a weight was lifting off his shoulders.

"We all have our secrets," he turned back to the pamphlets, ignoring the astonishment of the rest of their friends.


End file.
